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This is war

May 14, 2015

I know said I wasn’t going to try to raise any more tomato plants.  After all, it’s been an expensive disaster every year, and I’m tired of sinking time, money, energy, and hope into what has come to be a first class lost cause.

But when I was in Walmart a month ago and I saw some pre-potted tomato plants with a little cage attached, I reasoned that maybe this was a way to have one last shot at having a few tasty homegrown tomatoes.  I’d only be investing $12.98 in this venture, and I didn’t even need to buy more potting soil.

So I bought one Better Boy pre-planted tomato.

Every day I’ve checked on the thing, watering and fussing and suckering it and dusting it with Dipel to keep any chewing bugs away.  My reward was watching a pretty little tomato develop low on the plant.

I was admiring that little tomato this morning as I gave Better Boy a drink and a dusting.  It was all cute and green, and getting pretty sizable.  Exciting!

But this evening when Mr. Sparky went out onto deck to grill us some chicken for dinner, he found my pretty little tomato no longer attached to the plant, but loose on the deck floor.  And it looked like this:

To whomever or whatever did this:  die, you gravy-sucking pig.

To whomever or whatever did this: die, you gravy-sucking pig.

It’s got little gnaw marks.  It’s almost certainly the work of the frizzy-tailed rats.  I don’t know of anything else that would do such a cold-hearted dastardly deed.

And the Sparkette wonders why I don’t even slow down when the squirrels play chicken in the road with my van.

She should be happy I don’t gun it.


4 Comments leave one →
  1. May 15, 2015 9:51 am

    LOL and AW! Daggum it!

  2. May 17, 2015 9:13 am

    I would be so mad!

    • May 17, 2015 9:24 am

      Oh, I can assure you I was NOT a happy camper!

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